Dirt.
Scum.
The petty remainder.
She tried out her new but familiar name, rolling it around in her mouth.
Gritty with a sour sting, she decided with a frown.

Dirt let it sink in at night, like the dim light of tonight’s thumbnail moon sunk into her subconscious and turned her angry depressing thoughts into melancholy thoughts she had learned to accept.

Dirt accepted her many flaws, after losing the strength to struggle to fix them again and again.

Dirt was defenseless and tired, but that's always better than starting a losing battle with a pounding headache and the grit of slightly iron deficient blood in the back of her mouth. Over and over again.

Dirt had given up, so she settled down with the grass and the joyously simple minded bugs beneath her feet and became one with the earth. Tread-ed upon by those who's lives were designed to create impact, she remained unnoticed.

Simple, invisible, stable, and calm. Problem free as the dirt beneath your feet.